


Stay The Night

by CykaSpace



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Best Friends, Crowley is bloody oblivious, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CykaSpace/pseuds/CykaSpace
Summary: Hi! Thanks for reading my story, I appreciate it greatly. My story is based off of what I myself imagined everything to look/sound/etc. when I first read the story so it probably differs from the show. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter!





	1. Chapter 1

The rain came down in smatterings, pelting the window of Crowley’s flat. Crowley himself laid sprawled out across his pristine white sofa, a glass of chardonnay held loosely in his tanned fist. The usually blinding white lights were dimmed and set to a pale gold, faintly illuminating the worryingly large amount of wine bottles on the oak coffee table. Lightning flashed outside, soon followed by the rolling boom of thunder in the distance. Crowley hadn’t seen Aziraphale in quite some time after the almost-apocalypse and loneliness had begun to take its toll on the demon. So much so, he had taken to drinking copious amounts of alcohol, forgetting to miracle it away and then paying for it when he woke up the next day (if he even did wake up the next day. Crowley had a penchant for forgetting - or being too drunk to remember - when to wake himself up). Aziraphale had promised to contact the demon once he was finally settled back into the bookshop and, of course, he _had_ , but, since then, there had been no other contact between the two; Crowley was always outside the bookshop at the wrong time or when Aziraphale wasn’t there and Aziraphale…

_Ugh_ , Crowley’s head hurt.

Some part of him enjoyed waking up in pain; knowing that this was what he deserved for overdoing it gave him some sort of masochistic kick that he couldn’t explain. Crowley brought the glass back to his lips and sipped. Normally, he would have gone for some sort of fancy red wine but that reminded him of Aziraphale and, quite frankly, he really didn’t want to think of the light blond-haired angel that he’d spent most of his life with.

_Well, when you put it like that…_

Crowley shook his head and downed the rest of the chardonnay. The demon sat up slightly and rested his weight onto his elbow as he reached over to the coffee table for another bottle of something, _anything_ to take his mind off of the angel. As Crowley drunkenly grasped another bottle of wine, the lights in the flat flickered before turning off completely. A disgruntled noise made itself out of Crowley’s mouth as he slumped further into the sofa, uncorking the bottle before downright gulping down the pale liquid. A knock sounded at Crowley’s front door but he chose to ignore it out of sheer laziness (or, most likely, drunkenness). The knock came again and Crowley groaned, deciding that, if he answered it, the twat would probably go away. Disoriented struggling and heavy footfalls brought Crowley to the door. _It’s probably the kid opposite asking for sweets again,_ Crowley thought as he unlocked the door, _or it could be the prat from below asking about my plants again. Actually, it’s most likely the landlo-_ Crowley’s idle rambling came to an abrupt halt as he came face-to-face with the person he wanted to forget.

‘Aziraphale?’ he slurred. Aziraphale frowned and reached out to Crowley.

‘Crowley, what have you done?’ the angel asked, voice laced with unbridled concern. Crowley batted the hand away and turned his head in shame. Aziraphale glanced over Crowley’s shoulder and saw the mess of glass bottles and- was that an ashtray?

‘Oh, Crowley,’ the angel whispered. 

‘Don’t you “Crowley” me.’ Aziraphale gently pushed past the demon and walked to the kitchen where he knew Crowley kept the candles. Crowley shut the door and collapsed onto the sofa. Before he knew it, Aziraphale was back, two candles in hand and had also apparently set up the rest of the living room with candles.

‘Dear, what happened?’ Aziraphale asked, tentatively setting the candles down onto the coffee table and kneeling in front of Crowley. Crowley buried his face into the cushions and shook his head giddily. 

‘Crowley, you will need to tell me sooner or later. Why don’t you tell me now?’

‘It’s you,’ came the muffled response from the demon as he buried his face deeper into the cushion. 

‘Pardon?’

‘It’s you, for crying out loud!’ Crowley shouted, whipping his head up and turning to face the angel, his cheeks flushed red and his hair a knotted mess. Aziraphale’s eyes widened.

‘Me?’ he inquired quietly, partly to himself and partly to Crowley. Crowley nodded.

‘You never called after that. After you called to let me know how you were, I got nothing back! I called and tried to visit you so many times but you were never there!’ Crowley sniffed as the first of many tears began to fall. Aziraphale reached up and delicately took off Crowley’s sunglasses, placing them on the table behind him. Crowley blinked a few times before looking away from Aziraphale, sniffing and wiping his eyes bashfully. Aziraphale cupped the demon’s face with his pale and beautifully manicured hands, drawing the drunk’s attention back to him.

‘Crowley, dear,’ he whispered calmly. A crack of lightning caused Crowley to jump slightly and it was at that point that Aziraphale finally realised that this wasn’t the first time Crowley had been in this state. In fact, the demon seemed to be somewhat accustomed to his current situation.

‘Oh, my dear.’ Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a tight, warm hug and all Crowley could do was weep. Aziraphale simply held him close to his chest and stroked his hands through the thick black mess that was Crowley’s hair. 

‘Why didn’t you call?’ Crowley whimpered into Aziraphale’s shoulder. The angel hushed him.

‘Crowley, I am so sorry. I deeply, truly am.’ Crowley’s breathing steadied.

‘Can you ssstay here tonight?’ the demon asked. His face reddened once he realised the implications but took small comfort in the fact that Aziraphale was usually oblivious to this sort of thing.

‘Of course. I will take the sofa, if that makes things easier,’ Aziraphale offered. Crowley shook his head as the angel arose from his crouched position on the floor.

‘No, you can...you can sleep with me. I-I’m, uh, sure you’d be more comfortable?’ Crowley frowned to himself. Wasn’t he supposed to be drunk? He looked up to see Aziraphale staring shyly towards the floor.

‘Sorry, I just had to. I utterly hate seeing you in that state.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘If you’re fine with sharing a bed, then I see no reason not to. Anyway, what’s the difference between sharing a bed tonight compared to all of the other times we've shared a bed in the past?’ Crowley gave him a forced smile and nodded.

‘Yeah,’ he mumbled as the angel walked off to the bedroom. ‘What’s the difference.’


	2. Chapter 2

‘It’s awfully dark in here. Have you thought about mircaling the place to sort the lights out?’ Aziraphale asked, curled up in the corner of the sofa with a book he’d left at Crowley’s last time he’d visited. Crowley shook his head.

‘No, it’d probably cause some sort of disruption from the landlord. Anyway, the candles are...nice.’ Aziraphale hummed in agreement.

‘Yes, it’s rather romantic, wouldn’t you say?’ he commented as he looked around. Crowley’s breath hitched and he nodded, not trusting his voice.

A few minutes passed, Aziraphale comfortably curled up with a book and Crowley tapping nervously on his leg as he thought about what would happen that evening. Of course, Aziraphale wouldn’t do anything even if he wanted to, the poor sod, but Crowley could do and think of all sorts of things. What if  _ something  _ happened when he was sleeping with Aziraphale? He could blame it on what? Stray hormones? No, of course not, the bastard of a devil had been around for six thousand years, for Someone’s sake! Crowley’s nervous tapping had escalated to him biting his nails as his leg bounced up and down. A bright light washed over the flat, causing Crowley to jolt up. Aziraphale simply glanced around.

‘Oh, looks like the power is back on. What do you say to a homemade dinner, old chap?’ the angel asked, marking the page he was on and closing the book, resting his pale hands atop of it. Crowley swallowed.

‘I, uh,’ he began. ‘Ahem, sure. I haven’t eaten in some time,’ he mumbled. 

‘Well, I’ll soon fix that.’ Aziraphale rose from his seat and sauntered off to Crowley’s kitchen to make whatever he was making. Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t want to eat but Aziraphale seemed more than happy to cook for him, rushing off into the kitchen like some sort of house maid.

**_No_** _, don’t think of him like that,_ _you dirty-_

‘Crowely,’ Aziraphale began as he poked his head around the doorway. 

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m making shepherd’s pie, is that alright with you?’ Crowley nodded.

‘Yep, s’fine.’ Aziraphale beamed and ducked back into the kitchen. Sighing again, Crowley dropped his head into his hands. What was he going to do?

The smell of shepherd’s pie filled the flat and, for a moment, Crowley forgot what he was so worked-up about. Aziraphale had set out the table with place mats, coasters and cutlery. The angel brought the two dishes out and set them down  cautiously onto the place mats. Crowley thanked him as the angel scurried off back into the kitchen. The demon waited patiently for the angel before he began eating (hey, he may be a demon, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t be courteous). Aziraphale came back out with two glasses in hand filled with wine. No, wait, was that  _ water _ ?

‘Water?’ Crowley asked incredulously. Aziraphale took his seat across from the demon and nodded.

‘Crowley, dear, I do think you’ve had quite enough alcohol these past few days, don’t you?’ Rolling his eyes, Crowley took a sip of the water, coughing afterwards at the shock of something non-alcoholic. Aziraphale flashed him a small, sympathetic smile before taking a bite of the pie from his fork.

The two ate mostly in silence, Crowley only uttering a quick “thank you” to Aziraphale when he’d offered to wash up. Crowley looked down at his watch. One thirteen in the morning.  _ Not the worst you’ve done,  _ he thought. Aziraphale walked back into the living room and clasped his hands together.

‘Shall we head off to bed, then?’ Crowley gulped and nodded.

‘Sure, okay,’ he croaked, standing up from the chair and walking with Aziraphale to his bedroom. This was honestly going to be such a long night.

  
  


Crowley had successfully managed to stay on the other side of the bed to Aziraphale until the angel fell asleep. Unfortunately, the demon didn’t know what was going to happen when he fell asleep. Maybe he could just fake being asleep until Aziraphale woke up. Or maybe he could get out of bed, go to St. James’s Park for a bit, check out what they were selling at the Seven-Eleven down the road and then come back, get into bed and wait for Aziraphale to wake up. Or he could just not go to sleep. Crowley shifted further away from the angel and closed his eyes in thought.

Tired eyes slowly blinked open, attempting to sift the painful sunlight from the warm darkness. Crowley’s mind swirled painfully as he tried to move over. Realising that he couldn’t properly move, Crowley decided that opening his eyes was probably the best option in this scenario.  _ Oh fuck.  _ Crowley’s eyes snapped open as he was met with the sight of a slightly dishevelled Aziraphale tucked cozily under his arm. The golden sunlight flitted through the angel’s beautifully pale curls and danced off of his cheeks like tiny little specks of broken stars floating through space. Crowley blushed and stroked the back of his finger across the angel’s perfectly pale face. He really did lo-, lo-,  _ lov _ \- **ugh**! Why couldn’t he bloody say it?! Crowley huffed in anger and shifted slightly to move out of the bed.

‘Crowley?’ The demon froze midway through climbing out of bed; his left leg dangling just above the floor and his right leg still under plush covers. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open and, _ blimey,  _ did he look beautiful.

‘Crowley, what time is it?’ he croaked, morning voice rough with sleep. Crowley lost it, falling out of bed and landing on the floor with a solid clunk. Fucking Hell, the bastard surely knew how to mess with Crowley even if he didn’t realise it. Aziraphale climbed over to Crowley’s side of the bed and peered down worriedly.

‘Dear, are you alright?’ he asked. The demon looked up and frowned. 

‘Do I bloody look alright?’ he snapped. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to help. Crowley took it and immediately regretted it as the simple action caused sparks and shivers to course through his body.

‘Should I get breakfast started?’ Crowley offered after standing up and brushing himself off.

‘Actually,’ Aziraphale began, sitting up as he spoke,’I was wondering if you’d like to go to that small bakery down the road from here. Maybe we could stop off at the bookshop afterwards just so I can check up?’ Crowley cleared his throat.

‘Yeah, sure. I’ll just get changed then.’ 

‘Drat!’ Aziraphale exclaimed, causing Crowley to jump slightly and turn around from his wardrobe.

‘Bloody Hell, angel!’

‘I don’t have any of my clothes!’

‘So? Just wear the ones you wore yesterday or miracle some,’ Crowley suggested.

‘But I can’t!’ Aziraphale exclaimed. Sighing, Crowley asked, ‘Why?’

‘Because I absolutely  _ despise  _ wearing the same clothes and I can’t miracle some new ones because Upstairs,’ Aziraphale glanced up,’ will start to wonder why!’ Crowley nodded.

‘Alright, then. Wear some of my clothes.’ Aziraphale gave him an incredulous look.

‘Well- but I wouldn’t- you know that I- you-’ Aziraphale stammered before closing his mouth in defeat. Crowley allowed a small smirk to spread across his face. 

‘Well, I suppose I could wear your clothes, if you don’t mind.’ Crowley nodded.

‘Yeah, fine.’ 

Aziraphale had ended up with a pair of grey jeans, a white shirt and a pale denim jacket of Crowley’s (though he still wore his previous shoes as he had larger feet than the demon). 

‘I really don’t think the jacket was necessary,’ Aziraphale commented, picking at the sleeves of the denim. Crowley scoffed.

‘Really? Do you  _ want  _ to freeze?’

‘I’m an angel, I highly doubt I’d freeze. Neither would you, come to think of it, so I really don’t understand why-’

‘Relax, angel, I was just making a joke. Anyway, I like wearing layers. Find them comfy,’ Crowley said. He’d decided to wear a black jacket, Queen jumper, black top, black skinny jeans and his usual black DM’s. Not forgetting his sunglasses, of course. The two walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the busy Mayfair street towards the small bakery downtown that, according to Aziraphale, “did the most scrumptious cakes”. 

When they entered the small place, Crowley noticed that it was furnished with pale oranges and greens with decorations varying from odd, avant-garde metal things to snug portraits of cats. A stark contrast of modern art and comfort.

‘Why don’t I order while you find a nice spot. The usual, is it?’ Aziraphale asked. Crowley nodded and walked off from the counter. He couldn’t believe that Aziraphale had actually agreed to wear his clothes. It was easier than miracling up some clothes and then getting too much unwanted attention from Up There but he was still shocked. He and Aziraphale had completely different styles of dress and, even though Crowley had made an effort to find something that Aziraphale was most likely to wear, it was still odd to see the blond in something other than a suit, for a change. Aziraphale found Crowley in the corner of the cafe and set the food down onto the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading my story, I appreciate it greatly. My story is based off of what I myself imagined everything to look/sound/etc. when I first read the story so it probably differs from the show. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
